40
At the far edge from the fortress, beyond the snow-covered horizon, the first thing to move was a shadow.It was not a human form, but a massive structure made by wood, rope, and leather bound together.
Between smoke and falling snow, a single black arm slowly lifted toward the sky.Moments later, another of the same shape revealed itself.Then yet another rose.
It looked like something buried underground was stretching out its arms one by one.As if the floor of the steppe itself were bringing something forth in silence.
Inside Liaoyang Fortress, on a gentle rise behind the walls,our own catapults were adjusting their angles all at once.
We had catapults as well.No—these appeared to be machines that had already been stored here in Liaoyang.
From afar, the soldiers' movements were little more than the flow of tiny dots.What those dots were suspended from was neither houses nor walls, but the force that split the sky.
Ropes were pulled.Leather slings swallowed stones.The long arms of the catapults were pressed down and came to a halt.At that moment, a hard stillness settled over the hill.
This stillness was not time to catch one's breath.It was the waiting in which everyone carved into their minds where the stones would fall.
Kuuung.
The sound arrived late.What shook first was the sky.
A massive stone tore through the snowfall and rose upward.At first it climbed at a speed that seemed almost unbelievable in its slowness.After pausing briefly at its apex, the stone regained its weight and hurled itself toward the outside of the fortress.
A second stone followed immediately.A third traced the same trajectory.It was as if an invisible line had been drawn across the sky.The stones flew repeatedly, precisely along that line.
Moments later, dust erupted from the enemy camp outside the walls.First near the siege towers.Then in front of the catapults.Then in the open ground where horses had been tangled together.
Wherever the stones struck, the earth heaved upward.The shock spread and billowed like smoke.At this distance, sound did not reach clearly.What could be seen was only the subtle trembling of the enemy formation.
The catapults raised their arms again.The motion was the same, the rhythm steady.
Ropes were pulled.Stones were loaded.The sky split once more.
On the hill, a soldier raised his arm and gave a signal.In response, the catapults lined up side by side hurled their stones in sequence.The order flowed like an incoming tide.
From afar, Liaoyang Fortress looked like a motionless pile of stone.Behind that pile of stone, other stones were crossing the sky.It was as if they were shouting: we have catapults too.
When the stone-throwing briefly subsided, an extremely short lull arrived.It was not a pause meant for rest, but a silence granted before the next stench of blood.
Soldiers immediately swarmed over the collapsed parapets.They carried stones, tamped earth, and pressed shut broken gaps.
Everyone knew that one more hit could bring it down again.So no one stopped their hands.Because this single added layer might take the next arrow or stone in their place.
Seong-jin swallowed his breath as he lifted stones with sweat-soaked hands.The smell of blood seeping between stones mixed with lime, choking his throat.
The crossbow units immediately reset their firing positions.They rebuilt collapsed foundations and adjusted the height of the embrasures again.That single height changed the trajectory of arrows.A little lower, and the view was blocked.A little higher, and the body was exposed.This fine difference was not a matter of technique, but of survival.
Not many had fallen in this section.Instead, the remaining number of arrows had visibly decreased.Seong-jin opened his quiver, then paused when he saw nearly bare bottom.It meant he had fired that many.It also meant they had endured that fiercely.Yet he could not remember it.He had thought there would still be plenty left.
"At this rate, we won't last even a day."O Jin-cheol said quietly beside him.
In the nearby main hall, a council was ongoing.The voices of officers spilled out through the door, though the words were indistinct.Still, Seong-jin knew.The energy of the next battle was spreading back into the fortress.
On the battlements, scouts began to move.Toward the west and east gates, they slipped outside the walls like shadows.
The night's chill rode the wind across the walls.Seong-jin followed them with his eyes.The torchlight grew steadily more distant.
Now enemy and ally would again grope for each other's breath.Below the walls, blacksmiths lit their fires.They hammered armor torn by stones, straightened bent arrowheads, and fitted them again.
Perhaps it was the busiest place on the battlefield.And therefore, also the most peaceful.It made what was needed and repaired what was broken.No—rather, there was a furnace hastily set up on site to melt scavenged iron.Around that warmth, the hearts of the half-clad gathered.
The flickering firelight dyed the walls red.The traces of battle remained 그대로,and atop those remnants, another fight was being prepared once more.
The sky was still gray.Beneath it, a single line of black smoke rose slowly upward.